Chapter 1063
Discussion of Spells
Chapter 1063 Discussion of Spells
On the second day of the official start of the semester, just like "Wade" from the previous semester, Wade did not step into any of the classrooms where classes were being held.
For him now, sitting in the classroom and attending classes in a proper manner is a waste of time. It's okay to experience it once or twice occasionally, but it would be too silly to do it every day.
He had all the professors' class schedules in his hand. Wade rolled up the long parchment in his dormitory, unrolled it, and stuck it on the wall with a sticky spell, his eyes scanning over the densely packed dates.
During their enrollment year, all four deans of the college taught that year, and this arrangement remained unchanged for several years, for reasons that are self-evident.
Wade was glad that he and Harry were the same age.
Because Dumbledore assigned the best teaching staff at Hogwarts to this year's students, although most people may not have realized it so clearly.
At Hogwarts, some subjects are taught by the same professor for all years, such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—the headmaster does his best to find a new professor for the school each year, and there is no option for rotating professors.
There are also some subjects that are actually taught by two or three professors, such as Herbalism or Metamorphosis.
This is why Professor Sprout was able to manage several greenhouses while still giving them three herbal medicine classes every week.
Even with other professors or assistants sharing the workload, the workload of these professors, including Wade, was still considerable. Apart from a few elective courses, the other professors taught at least twenty classes per week.
That doesn't sound like much.
In addition to teaching, as a boarding school, professors also need to patrol at night, prepare teaching materials, purchase supplies, manage discipline, handle various emergencies, and provide career guidance and psychological counseling to fifth and seventh grade students.
There are some clever little tricks that can help professors quickly screen and grade assignments, such as grading homework.
They don't need to write lesson plans—no one checks them, and there are no mandatory "pass rate" or "excellent rate" targets.
But there is still a lot of work to be done, and there are no shortcuts; it must be done personally.
Vader could only be thankful that the magic school was, after all, a relatively independent institution. The professors didn't have to deal with all sorts of inspections, supervise morning and evening self-study sessions, fill out endless forms and attend countless meetings, participate in countless training sessions and evaluations, or be burdened with tasks assigned by various organizations...
Otherwise, he suspected that Dumbledore would need to equip each professor with a Time-Turner, a box of energy drinks every semester, and worry that the professors, who were working themselves to the bone, might suddenly die.
He sighed inwardly, while painstakingly extracting the free time slots from each professor's schedule to create a new "course schedule".
This morning, Professor Flitwick had some free time from the end of the third period until lunchtime.
Seeing that it was almost time, Wade put away his schedule, took out a broom, and jumped out of the window, instantly reaching the seventh floor.
The eagle on the oak door saw Wade, raised its head, spread its wings, flapped them, and made a melodious sound:
“Wade Gray has come to visit.”
"Come in!"
Professor Flitwick's voice came from behind the door, and the wooden door slid open.
Wade pushed open the door and immediately saw Professor Flitwick standing on a pile of books, surrounded by parchment, his figure almost completely obscured by the paper.
He held a magic wand in his hand, waving it like a conductor, with a dozen or so parchments floating around him.
"Oh, Wade!"
Professor Flitwick looked up, a light smile spreading across his face:
“You’ve come at the right time. I was just looking to clear my head—the writing of these kids, like Niven, is so hard to understand, it’s like it’s been stomped on by a giant.”
With a wave of his wand, the papers tumbled to the side, most of them marked with a kind "A" (acceptable), a few marked with a "P" (poor), and only one marked with an "E" (exceeded expectations).
Wade glanced at it and saw that it was a third-grade student's holiday homework.
He picked up a piece of paper at random. The writing on it looked like rows of thorns planted on the paper. The writer probably couldn't even recognize what he had written.
Picking up another one, the handwriting was barely legible, but three words were misspelled in just one line, and the content was riddled with errors.
The next one, every word was "standing tall"—that guy used less than two hundred words to make it a foot long.
—If it were Wade, he could write about six hundred words per foot. Hermione was even more extreme; she would write in tiny, densely packed letters, producing about one and a half times the amount of content Wade could write.
He took a deep breath, looked away without being able to bear it, and said, "What is this all about?"
Professor Flitwick, on the contrary, was amused.
He chuckled and jumped off the pile of books, walked to the stack of assignments, picked up the top sheet of extremely messy "thorny writing," and looked at it over and over again.
"So..."
Professor Flitwick put the assignment back, looked up at Wade, and his small eyes shone with delight.
"Back then, your homework was a real treat for me. Every time I graded it, I couldn't bear to put it down too quickly and wanted to look at it a few more times."
He turned and walked to the desk, waved his wand, causing the parchments to fall to the side, and said:
"However, there is a certain fun in looking at these assignments—no matter if ten, thirty, or fifty years have passed, these kids basically still use the same few tricks to deal with their assignments."
"A professor, probably a hundred years from now, will stand here and sigh at his sloppy assignment."
"Thinking about it this way, it's actually quite fun."
“Maybe future professors will stipulate,” Wade said seriously, “that any assignment with illegible handwriting will be a ‘T’ and must be rewritten! If once isn’t enough, then ten times; if ten times still aren’t enough, then twenty times. All these bad habits will be corrected!”
Professor Flitwick burst into laughter: "Oh, dear Wade, if you ever become a professor, you must let me see the scene... The students will be more afraid of you than they are of Snape!"
“I don’t care if people are afraid of me,” Wade glanced at the assignments and said, “but I can’t stand this.”
"Hahaha... Alright, my 'Mr. Indifferent,' if you really do become a professor..."
Professor Flitwick blinked and said, “You’ll find that illegible handwriting is the least of the students’ problems… Don’t stand, sit… Come, sit down!”
Professor Flitwick tapped the table with his wand, and a pot of fragrant black tea appeared on the table.
Wade sat down and took out the questions he had accumulated over this period of time—difficulties he had encountered in practical applications and could not find answers in textbooks.
Professor Flitwick took the parchment, glanced at the first line, and his eyes immediately lit up with excitement.
"Oh, that's a good question! A spell for combining multiple copies? How did you come up with that?"
“I met a contestant at the alchemy competition,” Vader explained. “I found her spell usage very interesting, but it wasn’t very effective in actual combat.”
"An alchemy competition..."
Professor Flitwick gave Wade a smile.
With just this one sentence, he confirmed his previous suspicions—from then until the end of the previous semester, Wade was indeed not at school.
He must have been very busy during that period, extremely busy... so busy that he could only jot down fleeting inspirations and had no time to think about them carefully.
Only after I get back will I have time to organize those fragmented inspirations into concrete ideas.
Thinking this to himself, Professor Flitwick didn't say a word more, but simply pulled a thick ancient book from the bookshelf and flipped to a certain page.
"Take a look, here's a conjecture and application of the copying spell. Although it was written three hundred years ago, it has some similarities to your ideas. You can use it as a reference..."
They began to discuss, with Professor Flitwick speculating on the plausibility of rewriting and combining the spells, while Vader listened quietly, occasionally asking a question or two, each time pleasing Professor Flitwick even more.
The sunlight outside the window gradually moved to midday.
They never mentioned Percy again, as if the conversation on the stairs the night before had never happened.
But Wade knew that some things didn't need to be said a second time.
happy New Year!
(End of this chapter)